


White Flag

by flashofthefuse, PhryneFicathon



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, depictions of mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: Jack introduces Phryne to some old friends triggering a crisis in their new relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> From the prompt:
> 
> I know you think that I shouldn’t still love you  
>  Or tell you that I do  
>  But if I didn’t say it, well I’d still have felt it  
>  Where’s the sense in that?
> 
> \--White Flag, Dido

Phryne watched Jack from her spot on the porch swing. He was relaxed here, among his old friends, and it was a joy to see. This was one of the many perks of the new direction their relationship had taken. Getting to spend more time with Jack Robinson, in addition to the Detective Inspector.

She’d often wondered what Jack did with his free time. Not in the beginning so much, but later, as she’d gotten to know him better, she couldn’t seem to learn enough about him. There was still so much to learn and she wanted to know all of him as well as she was beginning to know the feel of his body under her hands.

One delightful new discovery was that, on that evening early in their acquaintance, he’d been telling her the truth. Everyone really did call him Jack. At least among his friends. It made that moment even more special in her memory. That he’d decided, so soon upon meeting her, to include her as one.

Today they were at a gathering at the home of one of Jack’s oldest friends, celebrating the christening of his youngest child. Phryne had always had the vague notion that christenings were a private, solemn affair, and the service had been formal enough, but this party afterward was anything but solemn. It was a large gathering of family and friends. The food and drink was simple but plentiful. The home was too small to contain the group so the guests spilled out into the back garden. There were plenty of children running about, taking full advantage of their parent’s preoccupation with their own friends.

It reminded Phryne of her childhood, and the few times Aunt Prudence had been feeling generous, or the party low-brow enough, to include Phryne’s family. She and Janey would muck about with Arthur and Guy and any other children that had been invited. The setting might have been more grand than today but the feeling of welcome and carefree cheer was the same.

Jack was at this moment looking thoroughly entertained by whatever story Joe’s young son was telling him. It appeared to have something to do with the insect the boy held in the palm of his hand. The boy’s mother stood nearby, watching the scene with a look of bemused affection on her face. She held her newly christened infant daughter in her arms. Another child—not even two years of age—clung to her leg until her father came and pulled the little girl off, tossing the child in the air. Phryne didn’t know how Molly managed to be such a sunny and pleasant woman with the burden she bore. It had to be exhausting to have three children under five years of age.

“May I join you?”

Phryne looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, and racked her brain trying to remember this woman’s name. She scooted over on the swing to make room for the newcomer.

“It’s Lacy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Lacy Palmer. I’ve known Joe and Molly for years. And you? I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

“Phryne Fisher,” Phryne said, extending her hand. “Just met them today.”

“You’re here with Jack.” It wasn’t a question.

“That’s right,” Phryne smiled. Both woman turned to look at him.

The infant, squirming in her mother’s arms started to fuss and then sent up an anguished cry. Jack reached out and the child was passed over to him. He cradled the baby in his large hands and secured her in the crook of his arm, drawing her close to his chest. He bent his head, speaking softly and the child ceased its wailing, presumably distracted by the sudden change of view. A tiny hand reached up and Jack bent his face closer letting it grasp onto his nose.

“He’s really very good with them, isn’t he? For never having had any of his own,” Lacy said.

“Yes. Yes he is.”

“I’ve always wondered why he and Rosie never had children, but then, maybe it was for the best in the end. Truth be told I never thought they were a good match. She was always a little high and mighty, if you know what I mean,” Lacy said, leaning over conspiratorially.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Phryne said, feeling protective of Rosie for Jack’s sake. “They’re still quite close, you know, and care a great deal for each other. I think life just conspired against them.”

“And I suppose I ought to thank her for giving someone else a chance at him,” the woman said, apparently determined to make her intentions known. As if they weren’t already. She’d been glued to Jack’s side for most of the day. Hanging on his arm and laughing too loudly at his every utterance.

Phryne smiled thinly and tried to change the topic. “Did I hear that you’ve recently returned to Melbourne?”

“That’s right. I’ve lived in Adelaide the last ten years but I grew up here. Went to school with this lot. I’m a few years younger than most of them. My older brother was a great mate of Jack’s.”

“Is your brother here?”

“No. We lost him in the war. Jack sent me the loveliest note at the time.”

Phryne clucked sympathetically over the woman’s loss and smiled at the description of Jack’s kindness.

“What brought you back to Melbourne after all this time?”

“It was the right time to come home. I was needed.”

“Do you still have family here?”

“Not since my parents passed,” She looked pointedly at Jack. “He’ll make a wonderful father. Don’t you think?”

“Hmmm,” Phryne hummed, nodding. The baby had settled in Jack’s arms, looking snug and content. He waved off the mother’s offer to relieve him of his burden. She smiled gratefully and moved off to speak to a friend, happy for a moment to herself.

“We used to speak of it often. What we hoped for in the future. He always said he wanted a big family.”

“Joe and Molly seem on their way to a large brood,” Phryne said, hoping to turn this conversation in another direction

“Yes. They’re so perfectly suited. We all knew they’d end up together. It’s funny though, because everyone thought Jack and I would be the first of our group to marry. We were quite the item for awhile. But I was young and too easily swayed by the attentions of admiring boys. I foolishly let him get away. I always regretted it.”

“I find there’s not much to be gained in regretting the past,” Phryne said. “All of our experiences have helped to shape us, the good and the bad, no sense wishing them away, but I understand your impulse.”

She smiled at the woman, hoping to convey her intention to never be foolish enough to find herself regretting the loss of Jack Robinson.

“Have you known Jack long?” Lacy asked.

“Long enough,” Phryne said. “I, like you, returned home after a long absence. I met Jack quite soon after returning.”

“Did you have the same experience as I? The pleasure of reconnecting with old friends? I can’t tell you how wonderful it felt to come back after years away and feel so much at home. It was as though I’d never left.”

“Yes, I believe I can relate,” Phryne said, thinking of Mac. “Though I’ve had the pleasure of making many wonderful new acquaintances as well.”

“But, there’s something special about a shared history and life long attachments. Don’t you think? Like Jack and I. Or, Molly and Joe. They’ve known each other since they were just children,” Lacy said.

“It’s lovely that Joe and Molly have grown together and are happy, but none of us are who we were as children. Sometimes, the things you wanted then wouldn’t fit at all with the person you’ve become,” Phryne said with a thoughtful smile. She was spared having to hear any reply when another woman came along and drew Lacy away.

Phryne had experience with a jealous woman’s claws before. She often saw them when one took to blaming her for her husband’s or lover’s wandering eye.

She’d had less experience with Lacy’s type. The type that would work to make another woman feel insecure in her relationship simply because she wanted the man for herself. Mainly because Phryne had never been in a relationship where that might be possible before. The first type of woman didn’t bother her and neither did this one.

It stood to reason Jack would have women in his past other than Rosie. She had no idea if Lacy had ever truly figured as prominently in Jack’s life as she claimed but it was possible. Maybe as a young man he’d been smitten with his friend’s younger sister. She was pretty enough. And maybe they’d sat together discussing the future, even marriage and children, but that was a long time ago.

She realized she was staring at Jack and he’d noticed. He was looking back at her with a curious expression on his face. She felt herself blush at being caught out. His lips twitched up into a knowing smirk and she reddened further. He gave a small nod of his head, beckoning her over.

“You look quite comfortable, Jack,” she said, holding out her finger for the baby to latch onto.

“She’s a sweet thing, isn’t she?” He said, then he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “especially since I can give her back to her mother when my patience wears thin.”

Phryne laughed. The rest of the afternoon had been pleasant enough but there were a few disquieting moments.

More than one person mentioned Jack’s supposed desire for a family. They clucked in despair over his failed marriage to Rosie and expressed delight that he had found a new companion, often hinting at the possibility of a wedding in the near future.

Then there were the ones, like Lacy Palmer, that eyed her suspiciously. As though she were a foreigner among them and made it clear they didn’t think her a fit companion for him.

Jack’s patience, for all his joking, never appeared to wear thin. Molly eventually reclaimed her child, leaving him free to converse with his old friends and he seemed perfectly happy to do just that.

Now, in the car on the way home, he was lamenting about how he didn’t see his friends often enough and going on about how clever Joe’s oldest son was despite his young age.

“They’re a lovely group. You should make more of an effort to see them,” she said.

“Well, Joe and Molly anyway. When I last saw them the boy wasn’t even talking yet. I’d never even met the middle child before, couldn’t make it to her christening. She’s a little beauty, don’t you think? All those blond curls like Molly—and she seems as bright as her brother,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed, studying him from her spot in the passenger seat for a minute. She put her head back and closed her eyes. She pictured a different Jack. One that had taken another path in life.

_She could see him at that party. A little boy at his side. The child had Jack’s blue eyes and a mop of hair and was looking up adoringly at his father. Jack ruffled the child’s hair before sending him off to play with the other children. A pretty wife joined him, handing him a drink. A woman that looked like all the other women there, a little harried, but happy. He smiled at her and placed his hand on her growing belly._

Phryne’s heart ached from the vision. She sat up blinking, trying to shake it from her mind but it wouldn’t go.

“Do you envy Joe?” She asked.

“Envy him?”

“Would you have liked that life? A home and children of your own?”

His head canted to the side as if considering the question. His eyes remained on the road so he didn’t see the worry on her face.

“I suppose I always expected to have children but to be honest I’ve never thought on it much. As newlyweds Rosie and I weren’t thinking along those lines just yet.” He flashed her small smile, “we did talk about it after I’d returned. But the timing wasn’t good—or rather I was in no place for it—and Rosie was wise enough to see that.”

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“What? Phryne are you—”

His head snapped to her, his eyes wide.

“No! Goodness no, Jack! I’m not pregnant! I was just stating a fact. It’s not too late for you to have a child.”

“You don’t want children,” he said, sounding confused.

“I’m not talking about me,” she said.

“But—how would I—what are you talking about?”

“I was just thinking of how different your life might be if I hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“In the way?”

“Yes. If I were out of the picture.”

“If you were out of the picture,” he parroted dully.

“Are you just going to repeat back to me every word I utter?” she barked irritably. She wasn’t sure why she’d started this conversation. She felt anxious and uncomfortable and her head was fuzzy from too much drink in the hot sun.

“Well, I can’t make any sense of this, so I don’t know how to respond. What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just making conversation. You seemed to enjoy being with your friends today. Among their families.”

“I did.”

“And, chances are you’d have found someone more inclined to give you that kind of life if I weren’t distracting you.That’s all I’m saying,” she said, trying to adopt a carefree, breezy tone.

“Phryne. You’re not distracting me.”

“I just meant that you have admirers, Jack. And maybe if I were to step out of the way, one of them might have a better chance.”

“Step out of the way.”

“You’re doing it again! Just forget I said anything.”

“Right,” he grumbled, his jaw clenching tight.

It was too warm in the car and Phryne rolled the window open a crack. The roar of the wind also served to make talking difficult, which was just as well. She was making a right mess of this.

She knew that he loved her. She’d known if for a long time, even before he’d followed her to England. And she loved him. More than she’d thought possible. She was happier with him than she’d ever been but was she good for him? Could she really make him happy in the long term. She would never be like those women she’d met today. She had no plans to ever have a child much less a brood of them. Would there come a day when he’d regret her and all the things he missed out on because he’d chosen her? If she truly loved him, should she let him go? Could she? She turned to watch the landscape fly by out the window.

Jack gripped the steering wheel, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He couldn’t believe she could speak so cavalierly about their relationship. She made it sound as though he were some poor fool with whom she was simply passing time. That this was nothing to her and she could easily walk away but he—well, he was apparently so besotted with her that he couldn’t even see anything else.

Did she really believe women were that interchangeable for him? Is that how it was for her? Could one lover be so easily replaced by another? He knew her history. He’d thought this was different. It certainly was for him.

“You know, Phryne,” he said, struggling to control his temper. “As beguiling as you are, you don’t actually render other women invisible.”

“What?”

“Do you imagine that I’m under some spell and if you were only to release me from it, women that held no attraction before would suddenly appeal to me?”

“No—I—”

“And could you so easily step out of the frame?” He interrupted. His voice was cold and his hands clutched the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“You’re being ridiculous! I only meant—you don’t understand,” she said.

“I think I do but feel free to tell me where I’ve gone wrong.”

“You’re so far off the mark that I don’t know where to begin!” She huffed. “I just want you to be happy!”

“Right,” he said, again.

They pulled to the curb in front of her house and he went through the motions of disengaging the motor aggressively. He came around to escort her up the walk. An icy silence hung over them. She opened her front door and turned to him.

“Jack,” she said gently.

“Good afternoon, Miss Fisher. Thank you for accompanying me today.”

“You’re not coming in?”

“What would be the point?”

“Jack! What’s gotten into you?”

“Be sure to let me know when you’ve come up with a list of acceptable replacements, won’t you?”

Phryne stood in the open doorway bewildered. She had no idea what had just happened but she was suddenly very angry. Furious with him. She slammed the door shut and fumed all the way up the stairs.

Jack made it a few feet before he thought about turning around. Then he heard the door slam behind him and his resolve hardened.

He was a little unsteady on his feet. Even shaking slightly. His parting jab had been petty but he hadn’t been able to stop his mouth.

The embers of a fire he’d thought long ago extinguished had roared to life with her words. It was the fear that this love was not equal. That he would always and forever be the one to love more. That she would someday move on without consequence, and that when she did, she would leave nothing but a shriveled husk of the man he’d once been.

And now he knew that she had the same fear. Not for herself, but for him. She cared for him but she knew that this was temporary. That it would end someday, when she grew tired of it. And she knew she’d leave him broken.

She pitied him.

Why had he brought her to that gathering? A christening of all things! She must have been horrified by the sheer domesticity of his friend’s lives. She was used to hobnobbing with adventurers, poets and artists. People that were educated and well traveled, who threw wild parties and moved through life unencumbered by mundane things like work and children.

His profession lent an air of excitement and danger to his otherwise ordinary life. She’d only seen that side of him until now. Apparently, what she’d learned today had only served to convince her of how incompatible they truly were.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a quick knock at the back door. Mr. Butler stood on the other side, his arms so full he’d been unable to open it himself.

“Mr. Butler!” Phryne laughed, standing aside to let him through. “Did you buy the entire store? Jane will only be here the one night!”

Dot hurried over to help him with the packages.

“I may have overdone it a bit, Miss,” Mr. Butler said, “and unfortunately I also underestimated the payment. I’ll need to run back to the butcher to settle up. It will put me behind with the cooking but Mr. Green was nice enough to trust me and I did promise to return promptly.”

“I’d be happy to go settle up with the butcher for you,” Phryne said.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Mr. Butler said.

“Not another word. I’ll take the Hispano and be back in no time.”

“Why don’t I go along with you, Miss,” Dot volunteered. “That way I can run the payment in and you won’t have to leave the car.”

“Are you sure, Dot? You don’t like motoring with me.”

“I’ll be fine, Miss. I could use a bit of fresh air.”

“All right, Dot. If you insist,” Phryne said. “I’ll get the keys.”

“Told you it would work,” Dot whispered.

“You’re only half the way there, Dorothy,” Mr. Butler warned.

“I’ll manage the rest. I have to. She’s been moping about long enough.”

______________

Phryne waited outside the butcher shop, engine running, until Dot’s return.

“Oh, Miss?” Dot said, “would it be all right if we stopped by the station on our way home?”

“The station?”

“Yes. I have a book in my bag that Hugh borrowed from the Inspector. I’d like to return it.”

“Can’t Hugh do that another time?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Dot said. “but he keeps forgetting it at home! It’s been weeks now and at this point I feel I have to do it myself or it will never get done!”

Phryne hadn’t seen or spoken to Jack since he left in a huff. They’d argued before and she’d always heard from him once he’d cooled off. But after not hearing from him for days she was very worried that this time was different. She knew she should call him herself but she didn’t know where to start.

“Although, I suppose I can just give it to him tonight,” Dot said, glancing sideways at Miss Fisher. “When he comes to dinner?”

“Actually, I haven’t gotten around to inviting him.”

“Oh?” Dot said, “why not?”

“Well, Jane’s visit was rather sudden,” Phryne said, defensively.

“She’ll be very disappointed if he’s not there. She’s very fond of the Inspector.”

“Is she?”

“Yes! She asks after him in all her letters.”

“That’s true,” Phryne said, “she does.”

“Well then, let’s stop off at City South. I can return the book and you can invite the inspector for tonight.”

“It’s rather short notice,” Phryne said.

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Dot said, “he loves Mr. Butler’s cooking.”

“Who doesn’t?” Phryne said, smiling tightly, “All right. We’ll stop by.”

___________

“Hello, Hugh,” Dot said loudly as she marched into the station with Miss Fisher somewhat reluctantly on her heels.

“Dottie! Miss Fisher! What brings you here?” Hugh said.

“I have that book you keep forgetting to return to the Inspector. I plan to see it straight into his hands since you can’t be trusted with the task!”

As soon as he heard Dot’s voice, Jack was on his feet and moving to the front of the station, hoping her employer might be with her. She was, but he found he could barely look at her for fear of seeing either pity, or worse, nothing in her eyes. He turned his attention to Dot reaching to take the book she held out to him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Collins. “I’m sure your husband would have gotten around to return this eventually.”

“Sorry, sir,” Hugh said, blushing.

“It’s fine, Collins. I wasn’t urgently in need of it,” Jack said.

He glanced at Phryne again. She was staring down at her feet and his heart sank. Any hope he’d held that she’d come to see him were dashed. She looked for all the world as though she’d rather be anywhere else.

He knew he’d pushed her too fast in their relationship but he was more than willing to adopt a slower pace if that’s what she needed. He didn’t want to lose her entirely. He’d waited too long for her.

Problem was, he couldn’t think of a thing to say to make her stay and was just standing around as if struck dumb. Apparently reading his mind, Dot Collins stepped into the void and came to his rescue.

“I read that book when Hugh was through with it, Inspector,” Dot said.

“Did you? What did you think?” Jack asked.

“I liked it very much. I did have one question though, if you have a minute.”

“Dot,” Phryne said, “I’m sure Jack is very busy.”

“Actually, I was just about to take a break for tea. Would you care to join me?”

“That would be lovely!” Dot answered for them both.

“Please, come through to my office. We’ll be more comfortable there,” Jack said, waving his hand for them to go ahead. “Bring some tea for our guests, Collins—and maybe some of that cake as well.”

“I’ll help Hugh with the tea,” Dot said, moving behind the counter as soon as Miss Fisher had taken a step toward the office, committing herself to joining Jack. Phryne shot Dot a sharp look but moved forward steadily down the hall. She’d have to have a talk with the girl later about her manipulative ways.

As Phryne continued toward his office, Jack took a moment to settle himself. He hadn’t heard a word from her since he’d left her home in a temper the other day. He’d had a brief moment of hope when Hugh sent through an unexpected telephone call yesterday, but it hadn’t been her, and his disappointment had been fierce.

He’d thought about calling her or going to see her a thousand times but hadn’t known how he’d start the conversation. She’d all but told him she that she knew this couldn’t last. That he should find someone else, for his own good. How emasculating would it be for him to tell her he didn’t care that it might end? That he wanted her as long as he could have her? Her and no one else.

Would she think he was pathetic for being so willing to take what ever scraps she might toss his way? Maybe she hadn’t been that far off the other day. He really was pitifully besotted with her. He took a deep breath, smoothing his eyebrows with his fingertips and followed her into his office.

_____________

 

Dot waited until they’d gone before turning on Hugh.

“Where did this come from?” She asked pointing to the cake sitting on the counter as if it were something offensive.

“Some lady brought it by for the inspector.”

“Is this the same lady that called him yesterday?” Dot put her hands on her hips and starred accusingly at her husband.

“How do I know?” Hugh said, glancing toward his bosses door, which he noticed remained open.

“Just how many women are calling him?”

“None! Well, just the one. And, of course, Miss Fisher. And sometimes his wife—er, former—wife. I don’t know! We get a lot of calls!”

“This must be from the woman yesterday! Who is she and why is she bringing the inspector baked goods?”

“Dottie, keep your voice down! I’ve already told you everything I know and it’s not our business anyway,” Hugh hissed, regretting very much that he’d mentioned that phone call to his wife.

“Of course it’s our business!” Dot said, “I told you that he and Miss Fisher had some sort of argument. She thinks I don’t know but I can tell she’s very upset. Maybe it’s about this cake baking woman. You have to find out—”

The phone began to ring. Hugh thanked the gods above and snatched up the receiver. He held up a finger to silence his wife.

“Sorry, Dottie, I’ve gotta get this.” He said, hoping it might be a serious crime that would take him away from the station.

_____________

 

Phryne settled into the chair, plastering what she hoped was a pleasant expression on her face and watched as Jack made his way around to his chair. He dropped the book on his desktop and looked up at her. 

“How have you been?” He said, holding the gaze, something she’d noticed he’d been unable to do since she stepped through the station doors. He’d clearly been purposefully avoiding her eye.

“I’m fine, Jack. You?” And, it was gone. He was looking down at the desktop, over her head at the door, anywhere but at her.

“Good, good,” he said, shuffling some papers on the desk.

“Busy?”

“Yes—well, no, not terribly,” he said, fussing with his pen, “there’s always paperwork though.”

“Paperwork. Yes,” Phryne said, thinking that this whole exchange was excruciating! He couldn’t even talk to her and she wasn’t doing much better. He didn’t seem to be angry with her any longer. He didn’t seem to be anything but uncomfortable. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so at odds with him.

Dot entered with the tea tray and the relief at having a third party in the room was palpable.

“This cake looks delicious. Did you bake it yourself, Inspector?” Dot asked, innocently.

“Me? No,” Jack said, laughing. “I’m not much of a baker. It’s from a friend.”

“What friend?” Phryne said before she could stop herself.

“Do you remember Miss Palmer? I think you might have met her the other day?”

“Yes, of course. How nice of her,” Phryne said.

“It was just to say thank you,” Jack said, as though he felt the need to explain.

“For what? If you don’t mind my asking,” Phryne said, annoyed with herself for displaying such petty jealousy.

“Why would I mind?” Jack said, quickly. “I helped her with a small home repair.”

“I’d no idea you were so handy, Inspector.”

“I can fix a leaking faucet, Miss Fisher.”

“Lucky for Miss Palmer. How is she?”

“Aside from her plumbing issues, she’s the same as she was a few days ago.”

Jack furrowed his brow. Phryne was suddenly talking more, and faster, than she had since she’d stepped through the doors of the station and she seemed put out about something. If he didn’t know better he might think she was jealous but more likely she was still angry at his behavior the other day, and rightly so.

“Well, you’ll have to tell her that the cake is delicious. Next time you see her,” Phryne said.

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

“So you plan to see her again?”

“Uh—I—”

“No matter. We probably shouldn’t keep you,” she said, rising from her chair.

“There’s no hurry, Phryne. Mrs. Collins hasn’t even sat down yet,” Jack said, perplexed by her sudden shift in gear.

Phryne hovered half-way between standing and sitting. She noticed that Jack was looking at her very curiously, and Dot’s eyes were so full of pity that she had to look away. She was making a right mess of things.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to rush anyone.” She settled back into the chair and choked down another bite of the cake, determined to keep her mouth shut until she could trust herself to speak sensibly.

Jack shook his head slightly to clear his confusion at the odd back and forth. It was clear to him now that Phryne was here only because Dot Collins had forced her hand. He shouldn't have invited them to stay. He sought to ease her discomfort by turning the conversation away from her.  

“What was your question, Mrs. Collins? Regarding the book,” he asked.

“Oh, well, it was just something I wondered about. There was a lot of mention of a green light. It seemed like it was meant to be important but I wasn’t sure why. It was just a light at the end of a dock,” Dot said.

“Yes. The green light. I think it was meant to be symbol. A representation of Gatsby’s dreams for the future and his desires.”

“I see,” Dot said, though Jack wasn’t sure he’d explained it well enough for her. His head wasn't really in the right place for a literary discussion.

Another rather awkward silence fell over the room. Dot squirmed, watching the two detectives studiously ignoring one another and fearing she was failing miserably at her task. She gamely dove into the breach once more.

“Jane tells me she’s read the book too," Dot said, to no one in particular. "I’ll be interested to hear her thoughts tonight.”

“Oh. Is Jane at home?” Jack asked, directing the question to Phryne.

“Just for tonight. We’ve planned a dinner...” Phryne began. She stopped abruptly, mid-sentence. 

Dot glared at Miss Fisher but apparently her miss had said all she planned to! Which was nothing. She’d never known her employer to be so tongue tied. Or the inspector. The silences were beyond awkward. Miss Phryne looked like a trapped animal, and the Inspector seemed to be doing his best impression of a puppy waiting to be scolded.

“You’d think Jane was staying a month by looks of the kitchen,” Dot said, cheerily continuing with inane chatter she hoped would push Miss Phryne in the right direction. “Mr. Butler has enough food to feed an army.”

More silence. This was becoming unbearable. It was time to put an end to it!

“You should join us tonight!” Dot suggested, boldly. “I’m sure Jane would love to discuss _The Great Gatsby_ with you!”

Phryne glanced at Dot in surprise then looked over at Jack, holding her breath as she awaited his reply to this backhanded invitation.

“That’s very nice of you, Mrs. Collins but I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said, looking to Phryne as if seeking a hint at how she felt about Dot’s breach of etiquette in inviting him.

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Phryne finally managed to say, “I had meant to invite you myself. We only just learned she was coming home and I wasn’t sure of your schedule. Are you free?”

“I am. But you’re under no obligation to include me.”

“Of course you’re included! Hugh and Dot will be there. And Cec and Bert,” Phryne said. Only then did she realize how it must sound that everyone had been invited but him. What had she been thinking? Why hadn’t she invited him as soon as she’d started making plans?

The look in his eyes told her exactly how it sounded. She felt thoroughly ashamed of herself for hurting him but there was a small part of her that was glad, because it meant he still cared.

“Jane really would like you there," she said. " _I_ would like you there. Say you’ll come. If you have no other plans?”

She could tell he was sizing her up carefully. Trying to determine if she was sincere.

“Please, Jack. Do come,” she pressed.

Apparently that tipped the scale. He smiled.

“Thank you for the invitation. I’d be happy to attend.”

“You will?” Phryne asked, feeling more hopeful that she had in days. He met her eye and his face seemed to light up.

“I look forward to it,” he said.

Dot looked back at forth between the detectives. They appeared to have completely forgotten she was there. She shook her head, breathing out a sigh of relief. It seemed some of the smartest people became rather stupid when they fell in love.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner had been very pleasant. Phryne was thrilled to have Jane at home and it made Jack happy to see her so content. 

It had also been very entertaining to watch the relatively newlywed Collinses interact. Hugh still seemed a little awed by his wife but it was clear they were devoted to each other. It had felt very much like a family gathering and he was touched to have been included. Phryne sat at the head of the table and had set him opposite. While he might have preferred to sit at her side, the arrangement had been much more conducive to looking at her.

He’d almost been able to forget the anguish and uncertainty he’d been feeling regarding their relationship. At least he had until now. With the dinner complete and dishes cleared, Dot and Jane, with Hugh in tow, had gone off to listen to a popular radio show while Bert and Cec headed out in hopes of picking up some fares from the after theater crowds. That would normally be the cue for Jack and Phryne to retire to her parlour together. Jack wasn’t sure if tonight’s invitation extended that far.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Miss Fisher,” Jack said.

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself but you’re not leaving already, are you? Have you somewhere you need to be?” 

“Well, no.”

“Good!” Phryne said, clapping her hands together, “join me in the parlour?”

Phryne was very pleased when Jack nodded and followed her in. She was very much hoping for a return to normal and nervously poured them each a whisky. When she went to hand it to him, she turned toward the chaise and was surprised, and a little disappointed, to find he'd chosen to sit in one of the armchairs. It had been a long time since he’d sat anywhere but right beside her. Usually so close you couldn’t fit a ruler between them sideways. Her excitement at his quick acceptance of her offer of a nightcap flagged and she faltered. She wavered between the other armchair or the chaise for herself. The chaise won out in the hope she could still coax him closer.

“Did you like the dinner,” she said, after a slightly too long silence fell. She felt flustered and out of step, unsure of how to begin a conversation with him. Should she bring up the events of the other day or move on as if it hadn’t happened?

“Yes. Of course I did. Mr. Butler’s meals are always delicious,” Jack said, “and the company tonight was very agreeable.” _Very agreeable?_ _Good God that sounds pompous_ , Jack thought. Why was he having such a hard time talking to her like a normal person? “Thank you so much for the invitation.”

“Well, it was really Dot that issued it.” _Good God! Why did I say that?_ Phryne thought. “Not that I wouldn’t have issued one myself, had she not beat me to it,” she hastened to add. “You’re always welcome here, Jack.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Each took a gulp of whisky and squirmed in their seats as yet another uncomfortable silence fell.

“Phryne—”

“Jack—”

“Sorry, go ahead,” she said

“No, you first,” he said as their words tripped and fell on top of themselves. 

“You’re my guest,” she said, “Please.”

“All right,” he nodded, clearing his throat nervously. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I was terribly rude to you and I’m very ashamed. I’m so sorry, Phryne. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Jack. I accept your apology. I must admit I was taken aback. If I said or did anything to offend you, it was unintentional,” she said.

“You did nothing wrong. You were just speaking your mind and I wasn’t ready to hear it.” 

“Perhaps I could have done a better job explaining myself.”

“No. You made yourself clear. I know I’m not the most exciting of men, Phryne. I understand if you need something more.” 

“Something more? I never said I needed something more.”

“Not in so many words.”

“Not in any words.”

“You told me to move on. To find someone else.”

“I didn’t. I never said that,” she said, a slow realization of how he’d interpreted that conversation dawning. 

“Then what was all that talk about getting out of my way?”

“I don’t know. I hardly remember what I was thinking. Watching you holding that little baby made even _me_ feel ridiculously sentimental, Jack. And then that woman told me that you’d always wanted a brood of children. I thought I was holding you back from your dreams.”

“Who told you I wanted a brood of children?”

“That Lacy Palmer person. She said that you two used to talk about it all the time. She said you were the one that got away and it was clear she wants you back and is prepared to give you every last one of those children.” 

“You were going to step aside so that I could have children with Lacy Palmer?” 

It sounded ridiculous when he said it like that. He was laughing at her.

“Well, you were going to step aside so I could find someone more exciting!” she shot back, “at least my reasoning had some logic behind it!” 

“And what would that be?” 

“The fact that you once, however briefly, wanted marriage and children with that woman,” Phryne said, as though she’d just revealed the motive that would put the suspect behind bars for life.

“Phryne, I have never had a conversation with Lacy Palmer about having children, or anything else. In fact, before the other day, I doubt I’d said more than ten words to her. You must have misunderstood.” 

“No. I did not misunderstand. She implied you’d been very close. That she regretted letting you get away.”

“My only connection to her is through her older brother. Cal died at Pozières. He was a mate.”

“Yes. She told me that. She said you sent her a very thoughtful note after he’d been killed.”

“I sent a note to his parents, his family. His mother was always very kind to me,” Jack clarified.

“There was never anything between you and Lacy?”

“Never. She was Cal’s little sister. But I don’t care about this. Are you saying that you weren’t trying to tell me you want to end this?” Jack said.

“No! Do you?”

“Of course not! So, this was all just a misunderstanding?”

“Apparently,” she said, a wide smile spreading over her face, “which begs the question Jack, why are still sitting so far away?”

“It’s only three feet, Miss Fisher.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him and he was at her side in an instant, his hand wrapping around her head and pulling her to him. After a desperate kiss to make up for two days of anguish, he rested his forehead against hers and laughed softly to himself.

“You’ve no idea how relieved I am,” he said. “I thought you’d gotten a look at how ordinary my life is and couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“You’re a ridiculous man, Jack Robinson,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

She lay back, pulling him with her, eager to feel the warmth of his body, his weight on top of her. I was still amazing to her that the mere press of his lips made her want to be flat on her back, opening her legs for him. He had one hand behind her neck, the other wandering down her body to rest on her hip. She shifted, bringing her own hand down to tug her skirt up impatiently. His hand slid to her now bared thigh, over the silk of her stockings. He rutted against her once, twice. He pulled his head up to look at her but kept his pelvis pressed tightly to hers, his hand kneading the outside of her thigh.

“Phryne, we need to be careful. They’re in the next room.”

“They wouldn’t dare come in here without knocking first.” She placed her hand over his and encouraged it toward her inner thigh, “and I can be very quiet,” she whispered.

“Since when?” He smiled wickedly.

“Is that a challenge, Inspector?” she said, this time placing his hand firmly where she wanted it. He groaned.

“As much as I would like to indulge you—and myself—this is a spectacularly bad idea.” He buried his head in the crook of her neck, his breath heavy with desire. “Not only are my constable and his wife just outside those doors but, there’s Jane as well.”

The image of Jane accidentally coming upon them dampened on her ardor. “You’re right, of course,” she pouted. 

“I’m sorry. I know how you hate that,” he kissed the tip of her nose. 

She sat up smoothing her skirt back down over her thighs. “Is this what comes of falling in love with an honorable man?”

“I’ll make it up to you another time.”

‘You most certainly will,” she said. “So, what now? How do we spend the time if I can’t ravish you?”

“Draughts?”

She sighed. “I’ll get the board. You freshen our drinks.”

The world finally felt right again and Phryne was determined to make sure it stayed that way.

“Jack, darling,” she said, “how do we avoid situations like this in the future? I thought we were past these silly insecurities of yours. When will you learn that I’m not looking for reasons to leave you?” 

“It would help if you didn’t talk so easily about stepping aside,” he said, a bit defensively. Her tone had been non-accusatory but he felt the characterization of their misunderstanding as entirely his fault was a little unfair.

“For you! So you could have want you always wanted!”

“According to someone I barely know,” he said, “you might have just asked me what I wanted.”

“The whole thing does seem absurd now,” she said, “but in my defense, I had no reason to doubt what that woman told me. What kind of person makes that up? Mark my words, Jack. That woman might not have a past with you but she wants a future.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You think I’m wrong? Then answer this, if you hardly know her, have rarely spoken, then why is it you she’s calling with her home maintenance woes?”

“To be honest, I did think that strange. But she only recently moved back and she lives close to the station. Maybe she just thought it convenient.”

“She lives close to the station? That is convenient. A bit too convenient.”

“Now you’re starting to sound paranoid, Phryne. I’m sure it’s purely coincidental. Besides, if anything it’s you she’s enamored of. All she did was ask questions about you while I was fixing her sink.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” 

He shook his head at her horrible joke.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she said. “But I still think I’m right. Any interest in me was strictly her way to size up the competition.”

“There is no competition,” he said, firmly. He glanced down at the board and took her last piece. “Anywhere it seems. You’ve lost the game. Let’s try again and could you put some effort into it this time?”

There was a knock at the parlour door and Phryne grinned at Jack as if to say ‘I told you so’ before answering. Jane poked her head in.

“Is the show over?” Phryne asked.

“Just finished. Hugh’s gone home but Dot’s decided to stay the night. She’s making cocoa for us and asked me to see if we could bring some to you and the inspector.”

“Jack?” Phryne inquired.

“Ah. No thank you. I should be going,” he said.

“Must you?” Phryne said.

“I’ve monopolized you long enough tonight. You should go spend some time with Jane. I know how much you miss having her here.”

She told Jane she’d join her and Dot in the kitchen and walked Jack to the door.

“You know, it’d be very easy for you to slip up the stairs right now and await me in my boudoir,” she said, stepping close and placing her palms flat on his chest. His hands automatically reached for her hips.

“Tempting, but I wouldn’t want to distract you from your hen party.”

“Another night?”

“How about tomorrow?” he asked, wanting her to know he was equally impatient. “Perhaps at mine? It’s less crowded there.”

“I’d love to, Jack. Now, kiss me goodnight. And make it a toe curler.”

“A toe curler?” 

“Yes. A kiss to last me until tomorrow night. I want to feel it down to my toes.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her close.

*******

“The inspector is on the phone for you, Miss,” Mr. Butler said.

“Mmmm!” Phryne smiled, swallowed down the sip of morning tea she’d just taken, and popped up to hurry into the hall. A few moments later her happy laugh could be heard all the way into the kitchen.

“Thank goodness,” Dot whispered to Jane.

“What?”

“The Inspector and Miss Phryne are back on track! They had some sort of tiff and it’s been rather gloomy around here recently!”

“I noticed that things were strained at first but all seemed well by the end of the evening.”

“Yes. Let’s hope it stays that way!”

“Any reason to think it wouldn’t?” 

“At the station yesterday,” Dot said, leaning closer to Jane and lowering her voice. “There was a cake.”

“A cake?” Jane whispered, mimicking Dot’s body language.

“Yes. Some woman has been baking the inspector cakes and calling him as well!” Dot said as though those activities were the worst kind of crime.

“It’s just a cake,” Jane said. 

“It wasn’t even that good,” Dot sniffed. “Very dry.”

“Well, there you go,” Jane said, trying not to laugh. She thought Dot was worrying about nothing. It was obvious how the inspector felt about Miss Phryne. No other woman, or cake, was going to lure him away.

“I’ve told Hugh to let me know if the woman calls again.”

“Isn’t that spying?”

“That’s what Hugh said! Miss Phryne would say it’s in the service of the truth,” Dot said, self-righteously.

“What would I say?” Phryne asked, stepping back into the room.

“Nothing, Miss. What do you hear from the inspector?”

“Oh, not much really. There’s a case we’d worked on recently and he was just reminding me of a bit of evidence that got misplaced. Ended up in my bag, somehow. He needs it for his files.”

*******

Two hours later Phryne strolled into Jack’s office with the evidence he requested. He was on the phone and waved her through the door. She came around and perched herself on the desk by his side.

“That’s very kind of you but it’s not necessary. You’ve already thanked me.” He raised his eyebrows at Phryne. “No. That won’t be possible. I’m afraid I already have an obligation this evening.”

“Am I an obligation now, Jack?” Phryne asked. He smirked, wrapping his free hand around her ankle giving it a squeeze. 

“Truly, Miss Palmer, you needn’t trouble yourself further. My schedule is far too unpredictable.”

Now it was Phryne’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Jack paused while Miss Palmer said something else. 

“Yes. I did enjoy the cake. Everyone said it was delicious. Miss Fisher, in particular, wanted me to pass on her compliments,” he said, putting a rather definitive emphasis on Miss Fisher.

“Name dropper,” Phryne whispered.

“I don’t understand,” he said, his brows furrowing, at something she was saying. “I didn’t mean to offend." There was another pause as she talked over him, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business, but I’d have thought our relationship was obvious when she accompanied me to the christening the other day,” he said, his tone becoming harsher.

Miss Palmer’s voice rose and Phryne leaned in trying to hear better. Jack gave her a scolding look and shook his head. She sat back, folding her arms in front of her chest to express her annoyance.

“Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying,” he said. He was growing quite angry and Phryne began to feel a little sorry for the poor girl. 

“Be kind,” she whispered. He looked up at her and his eyes softened. He nodded.

“Miss Palmer,” he said, more calmly. “I’m terribly sorry for any misunderstanding. I was happy to assist you and you’ve already thanked me far beyond what was required. Now I really must excuse myself, my constable requires my attention. Thank you for the kind invitation, I’m sorry I’m unable to accept.” He hung up and exhaled, looking slightly dazed.

“First I’m an obligation and now I’m a constable?” Phryne said.

“I didn’t know how else to get her off the phone and I didn’t want to say you were here.”

“Why not?”

“She was extremely put out that I’d shared her cake with you!”

“I did think it a miscalculation on your part to mention that.”

“Why shouldn’t I have? I thought it would please her. When I was at her home she talked of nothing but you!”

“I told you, that was just sizing up her competition. Are you ready now to admit I’m right about her?”

“I think you might be.”

“I know I am. What did she want today? Another stopped up sink?”

“It was a leaky faucet. And she invited me to her home for supper. To thank me for fixing it. Again.”

“That must have been one recalcitrant faucet!”

“It was nothing. Two turns of a wrench.”

“I understand her attraction, and I must admit feeling a little sorry for her, but you might what to steer clear, Jack. To avoid any further misunderstanding.”

“I’m sure I’ve heard the last of her,” he said. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

She pulled the illicitly procured evidence from her bag.

“There was no need to rush over with that. I told you I could get it tonight. I was really just looking for an excuse to call.”

“And maybe I just wanted to see you.”

He glanced at his door and then leaned up to give her a quick kiss. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and held him to her lips a little while longer.

“We are still on for tonight, aren’t we?” He asked.

“Of course. Seven o’clock?”

“I’ll be counting the hours.”

She stood to go, tossing a look over her shoulder at him as she went. “I hope you don’t find this presumptuous Jack, but I’ve packed a small overnight bag.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Jack woke in his favorite way, curled around Phryne Fisher’s magnificent body. His chest pressed up to her back and his arm was draped across her waist. He nudged his nose into her hair gently and breathed in her now familiar scent. 

He loved waking with her. Wherever they were. Her home was luxurious and comfortable, and waking there usually meant a delicious breakfast that required no effort on his part but there was something about the times she was here, in his home, that held a special appeal.

She sighed in her sleep and shifted her body a little closer to his. He gave himself a few more minutes of bliss and then moved as quietly as he could from the bed, pressing the doona gently against her back to make up for the loss of his body heat. He pulled on a singlet and pair of trousers and headed to the kitchen.

He’d picked up the ingredients he needed on his way home from work and was well into his preparations when he felt her arms go around his waist. 

“Good morning, Jack. Whatever you’re doing in here, it smells wonderful.”

“Not as wonderful as my bed did,” he said, setting down the spatula and wiping his hands on a towel before turning to take her in his arms. He ran his hands down over her silk clad form. She was wearing a robe he recognized. One she’d picked up along the way during their travels.

“Then why did you leave it so early?” She asked.

“I wanted to make you a nice breakfast.”

“I imagine I could have found that in bed, but as it happens, I am a might peckish.”

“Sit. It will be ready in a minute.”

He hurried to pour the tea, then laid out some scones he’d picked up at the bakery and an assortment of jams. As she worked on that, he finished cooking the omelette before joining her at the table.

“You didn’t need to go to all this trouble, Jack,” she said, digging in.

“I want you to be comfortable here.”

“I am. I love these mornings in your home. They’re so peaceful.”

“You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Is that so? Because I’ve been thinking I might leave a few things here. Would you mind terribly? It’d be easier than always having to pack a case.”

“Of course I don’t mind.”

“I’m not talking about a lot. Just maybe a dressing gown and a change of clothes?”

“Phryne, bring as much as you like. I can make room in the closet and you’re welcome to a dresser drawer as well.”

“A whole drawer, Jack?” She teased.

“I thought it might seem too eager to offer the entire dresser,” he said.

“So, you like the idea?” She asked, tentatively, “because you’re welcome to leave some of your things at my home as well.”

“Really?”

“Yes. All this back and forth is getting tiring.”

“You wouldn’t find it intrusive?”

“I’d find it anything but intrusive,” she came around the table to sit in his lap. “We were together every night when you came to England and during our travels home. I’m not saying we need to spend every night together now, but when we do, I don’t want either of us to have to rush off. I like mornings with you.”

“Me too. I love waking up with you, Phryne. And going to bed with you. I think this is an excellent idea.”

“Speaking of mornings in bed, can the breakfast clean up wait?”

He stood, lifting her with him. They were halfway to the bedroom when the front bell chimed. Jack froze, Phryne still in his arms. He gave her a look that warned silence. 

Any hopes that they could wait out whoever was at the door were dashed when the bell rang a second time and was followed by a rather persistent knocking. He set her on her feet and she headed down the hall without him. She dropped the robe off one shoulder as she went.

“Hurry, Jack,” she said, before disappearing into his room.

Jack pulled the door open, ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off. To his astonishment, Lacy Palmer stood on his step with a basket in her arms.

“Do get out of the way, Jack! I thought you’d never answer and everything is going cold!”

Before he could stop her, she’d pushed her way inside. Her head swiveled, taking in the space before she moved toward the kitchen. Jack stepped in front of her, blocking her progress.

“Miss Palmer! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve brought you breakfast, of course. Since you were too busy to make it to dinner last night. You work too hard, Jack.” She tried to step past him and he took hold of her arm above the elbow, turning her back toward the door.

“You can’t just turn up at my door like this!” He said, “How did you even know where I live?”

“What has gotten into you?” She said, looking sincerely confused by his reaction. She spied Phryne’s coat and hat on the hook by the door. “Is someone here?”

“Miss Palmer, your behavior is highly inappropriate,” Jack said.

“My behavior?” she said, her volume rising. “My behavior is inappropriate? What about your behavior, Jack? It’s her, isn’t it? That Phryne Fisher. Did she spend the night with you?”

“I’d like you to leave,” Jack said, sternly,

“I came back for you! You told me you needed me and I gave up everything to be at your side!” 

“I don’t know what your talking about,” Jack said. She wasn’t making any sense.

“You said you loved me!”

“Miss Palmer, we barely know one another,” he said, seeking some semblance of reason from the woman. This whole situation was absurd and becoming increasingly alarming with each passing moment.

“How could you do this to me?” She cried. “How could you betray me with that whore!”

“You need to leave. Now,” Jack said, his patience at its end. He pushed her through the door and out onto the walk. “You cannot come to my home unannounced and speak that way about the woman I love! Please, leave.”

“I won’t stand for this, Jack. I won’t be made a fool of,” she said, her hysteria switching in an instant to a calm but simmering anger. “Get rid of the whore.” 

She threw her head in the air and stalked down his path. He watched, bewildered until she was out of sight before closing the door. He turned to find Phryne at his side. She held her robe closed tightly in front of her. Her eyes were wide.

“I assume you heard that?”

“I did, Jack.”

“I’m so sorry. You should never have been subjected to that.”

“Don’t worry about me, Jack. I’m worried about her!” 

“Her? Phryne, you don’t think for a minute her complaints are valid, do you? I haven’t betrayed her! I don’t even know her!”

“I know that. That’s why I’m worried about her. First that tale at the party about your romantic history and now this. She’s clearly delusional.”

“Delusional?”

“Jack. A woman you barely know, haven’t seen or spoken to in years, is convinced that she is in a romantic relationship with you, that you have a history. Wouldn’t you call that delusional?”

He shook his head, clearly still bewildered.

“And the manic behavior. Her mood shifting so quickly. Something is not right,” Phryne said.

“That much is clear,” he said. “She walked right in as if she were expected. And the things she was saying! She said she came back for me. That I’d told her I love her.”

“She seems to have a distorted view of reality.”

“Distorted? It’s not distorted, Phryne, it’s—”

“Delusional. As I said. Maybe I should speak to Mac. If it’s what I suspect she might be able to shed some light.”

“You think this is a medical issue? Isn’t it more likely I somehow, unknowingly, did something to encourage her?”

“Jack. I spent the better part of a year flirting with you and for the majority of it you were far from encouraging,” Phryne said. “You’re not the type to lead a woman on.”

“Honestly, Phryne, I’d prefer that to something completely outside of my control.”

“Does she have family you could contact? If it is a medical issue for her they may have dealt with it before.” 

“She has no family. Her parents were killed in a car wreck at least a decade ago and, as you know, her brother never made it home from France.”

“So she’s alone. But she has friends, doesn’t she? She knew the people at that gathering.”

“Yes,” he said, “but I don’t want to go starting rumours about the woman, Phryne. Can’t we just wait and see if anything more comes of this?”

“If you like, but what if she comes to the station and behaves that way?”

“I hadn’t thought of that! Thank you for that nightmare! As if I don’t have enough trouble with—” he bit his tongue.

“Me, Jack? Is that what you were about to say?”

“Not you, exactly. It’s just that there are certain of my colleagues that already think me a bit of Lothario.”

“Ha!” Phryne laughed, “You? An unscrupulous seducer of women? Oh that is funny, Jack.”

“A regular riot.”

“Let me talk to Mac. She may be able to tell us how to proceed.”

‘Well, that won’t be at all embarrassing,” he said, sarcastically.

“This isn’t your fault and not to sound insensitive but if she is suffering from some psychosis you’re not even who I’m worried about. She may need help.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “It’s just rather surreal. She brought me breakfast, Phryne. How does she even know where I live?”

“That’s not that hard to discover, Jack. I knew your address within a month of meeting you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I was curious about you.”

“But you never showed up uninvited on my doorstep.”

“And, if I had, Inspector?” She gave him a provocative smile and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was still rather shaken by the encounter and she hoped to distract him a little.

“I guess we’ll never know,” he said, returning her smile with a rather loaded one of his own and grasping her hips to pull her to him.

She tugged his head down to hers for a searing kiss.

“What was that for?”

“No reason. Did it curl your toes?”

“And then some,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “I’m sorry our morning was ruined.”

“It’s not ruined, Jack. I’m still here. You’re still here. And it’s a little early to turn up on Mac’s doorstep.”

“True. Much more polite to wait for a reasonable hour. Any ideas on how you’d like to spend the time?”

“I know just the thing, Jack.”

Later, they were replenishing their energy after a bit of very enjoyable exertion, when there was another knock at the door. Jack went white.

“This is a rather popular address today,” Phryne said.

“You don’t think...”

“Only one way to find out, Jack.”

To Jack’s great relief it was only Joe and Molly. The relief was short lived once he heard why they’d come. It turned out Jack’s was not the only house Lacy had visited today. 

“I didn’t know what to make of it,” Molly said, “and the more questions I asked, the stranger the whole story became. I thought I should speak to you.”

“What exactly did Lacy tell you?” Jack asked

Molly glanced at Phryne apologetically. “I don’t know if I should say.”

“If you’d be more comfortable talking to Jack without me I’m happy to step into the other room,” Phryne said.

“No,” Jack said, placing his hand on her knee to stop her from getting up. “I’d like you here. Phryne can hear anything you have to say, Molly. We have no secrets from each other.”

“I’m sure it isn’t true,” Molly began, “like I said she was behaving very strangely.”

“Just tell him, Moll,” Joe prompted.

“She said you’d proposed to her. That you were engaged to be married, Jack.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Lacy had turned up at their door unexpected telling Molly she had exciting news that she couldn’t wait any longer to share. She said that it had been a big secret but that she was free now to reveal that she and Jack were engaged to be married. Molly was stunned and sat Lacy down in her kitchen to hear the entire story.

“You’re one of my oldest friends and I wanted to tell you first,” Lacy said.

“You’re engaged? To Jack? Jack Robinson?” Molly asked.

“Of course Jack Robinson! Who else,” Lacy said, laughing at her friends confusion.

“When did this happen?”

“It’s been awhile now. He proposed before I even moved back but we needed to keep it quiet. It wouldn’t have looked good for him, coming so quickly on the heels of his divorce.”

“I don’t understand. Did he visit you in Adelaide? Write to you? I wasn’t aware you were in touch,” Molly said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He couldn’t very well do either of those things, could he? I told you, it was too soon after the divorce for him to openly express his love for me.”

“Then how did he propose?”

“Through the papers.”

“What papers?”

“The newspapers, silly.” Lacy gave Molly an indulgent smile, as though she were too simple to possibly understand. “I’ll try to explain. There were several articles about that horrible case involving his former father-in-law and Jack sent me messages through them, telling me that he loved me and needed me to come home. To be with him.” 

“Jack told you that through newspaper articles?”

“Yes. And I tried to get here as quickly as I could but by the time I did he’d gone away. He had an international jewel thief he had to track down. He hated to be away from me but only he could capture this dangerous man.” 

“But, Lacy. That’s not what happened. Jack was on holiday with Miss Fisher,” Molly said, gently. It wasn’t public knowledge that Jack had gone after Miss Fisher to London, but he’d told Joe and Joe had told his wife.

“That’s not true. She was there only because they often work together. In fact that woman has become a bit of a problem.” Lacy said, lowering her voice, though there was no one else around to overhear. “Can I confide in you, Molly?”

“Of course.”

“Well, one night, while they were traveling, something happened. Jack thinks she may have slipped something into his drink because he woke up in her bed with no recollection of how he got there. And now she’s forcing him into a relationship with her by threatening to ruin his reputation.”

“Lacy, this doesn’t make any sense.”

“You don’t believe me!” Lacy said, becoming agitated.

“I didn’t say that,” Molly said, trying to calm her down. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“All you need to understand is that he loves me and he needs me but she’s trapped him. She lured him into a sordid affair and now she’s threatening to tell the world. He’ll lose his standing in society, his position with the police. I have to stop her, Molly. I have to save him.”

Lacy was up, pacing the room at this point and Molly was very concerned. She tried to turn the conversation away from Miss Fisher since that seemed to be what had set Lacy off. Instead, she’d asked about the wedding and Lacy had gone on happily for several more minutes discussing her plans.

After she left, Molly had found her husband in his workshop and they’d agreed they should come to Jack.

“Same old, Jackie,” Joe said, slapping him on the back, “still having to beat them off with a stick.”

“It’s not funny, Joe!” Molly admonished.

“It’s not,” Jack agreed, “and it’s not true. None of it.”

“Well, I didn’t really think you were sending coded messages through the newspaper Jack, but why would she say these things?”

“I don’t know.” He told them about her visit to his home early and their suspicions that Lacy might be having a psychological crisis. 

“I think I need to find out more about about her. Do you know what she did in Adelaide?”

“She worked for a barrister. A Hamish something—Benson or Benton? Does that help?”

“It’s a start,” Jack said.

“And while you follow that trail, I think it’s time we seek a professional opinion,” Phryne said.

 

*******

“She’s convinced they’re in love,” Phryne said. “Is there a chance I’m right about this, Mac? Could this be a case of _psychose passionelle_?

“It’s very rare, Phryne. Are you sure she doesn’t just fancy Jack?”

“He hardly knows the woman. She showed up uninvited at his home and the things she was saying indicated she thought there was an established relationship between them. She said that he’d told her that he needed her, that he loved her.”

“And, there’s no chance he did?”

“None,” Phryne said, emphatically, “And there’s also no chance he’s proposed to her like she told their friends. This is Jack we’re talking about.”

“No, you’re right. Jack’s not the duplicitous type.”

“So, what are we dealing with, Mac?”

“This isn’t really my area of expertise but there is a doctor de Clérambault in France that has done extensive studies. He’s come to the conclusion that the disorder falls into two types. With the first type, the patient usually has other psychiatric issues. For instance they’re often diagnosed as schizophrenic. With them the delusion is constant and can last a lifetime.”

“Well that’s not promising. What’s the second type?”

“Those patients have less psychological problems. Their delusions can be intense but fairly short-lived. They also tend to recur. They imagine themselves in love for several months and then ‘fall out’ with their lover only to start the delusion again with someone new.”

“How do we know which type we’re dealing with?”

“If you find a similar instance in this woman’s past, that might indicate the second type. But Phryne, there’s so much about the brain that we don’t yet understand. Regardless of type, there’s no easy fix.”

“She’s not raving, Mac. I met the woman. What could trigger something like this?”

“No one really knows. One theory is past trauma. Another is that the delusion is some sort of defense against insecurities, or feelings of competitiveness, or even resentment.”

“How is it treated?”

“First she’d have to seek help, which is difficult because the person inflicted doesn’t believe they’re ill, and even if you can get her to, there may not be any solution. Effective treatment has proven elusive. You might have to wait it out and hope she eventually turns her delusion on someone else.”

“Is that really the best we can hope for?”

“I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ll look into the disorder and see if there’s anything new to be learned. It’s a fascinating diagnosis.”

“Is she dangerous, Mac? She wouldn’t harm herself, or anyone else, would she?”

“I really don’t know, Phryne. Find out what you can about her. If this truly is some sort of psychotic delusion we’ll have to see if we can help her.”

*******

“I wasn’t expecting you in today, Sir,” Collins said when Jack stepped into the station.

“Something’s come up that requires my attention.”

“Can I help?”

“What are you working on right now?” Jack asked. He was loathe to pull Hugh from something important for a personal matter but he could use the help.

“Nothing really. It’s been a slow day,” Hugh said, blushing at being caught out. He’d been lackadaisically working his way through a backlog of filing.

“In that case, yes. Maybe you can help me. I need to find a barrister in Adelaide. A Hamish Benton or Benson. Can you get on that?”

“Right away, Sir,” Hugh said, happy to have a more interesting task to dive into.

Jack, in the meanwhile, went to the archives and pulled the file on the car accident that had taken Lacy Palmer’s parents from her. He vaguely recalled that she had been with them in the vehicle and wanted to see if there was any mention of her in the reports. Two hours later he thought he had a much better picture of Lacy Palmer and it wasn’t a pretty one. 

Lacy had been injured in the accident that killed her parents. It wasn’t life threatening but enough to require a lengthy hospitalization. There’d been an officer who’d been at the scene of the accident and he’d been kind to her. He’d visited her at the hospital and escorted her home when she was released. It seemed Lacy had developed a similar fixation on him. 

He told Jack she’d made a bit of a nuisance of herself. Embarrassed him a few times by showing up at his station or home. He felt sorry for her and tried to let her down easy but she never seemed to get the message. Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. He was so relieved that he never bothered to find out what had become of her.

Jack had also called her former employer and the story was similar. This time the gentleman was a young barrister at the firm where Lacy worked in the secretarial pool. The man claimed to have never even spoken to her before she began telling others in the firm that they were engaged to be married. 

Her employer said she was a very bright young girl but this obsession of hers caused problems. It became a joke among the others in the office and was more than a nuisance for the barrister she’d fixated on. They’d finally had to let her go.

After that call, Jack went to see Doctor MacMillan. Phryne had already told him what she’d learned from Mac but he wanted to know her opinion on this new information. He found her in the morgue. 

“So,” she said, “I hear you’re quite the Casanova these days, Jack,” she said.

“Very funny,” he said, “and just the kind of rumour I need floating around.”

“It’s safe to talk here,” she said, “my patient is very discreet.”

Jack looked down at the deceased man on her table. “I imagine so,” he said. He filled her in on the what he’d learned.

“I’ve done some more research and it’s looking more like a case of de Clérambault Syndrome. She’s created an entire fiction in her head that explains all the inconsistencies in her belief that you love her. You never contacted her directly because you couldn’t, thus the fantastical secret messages in the newspaper. That’s consistent with the syndrome.”

“And the stuff about Phryne?”

“She had to explain that too. You couldn’t possibly be in love with Phryne because you’re in love with her, so she’s convinced herself that Phryne is trapping you.”

“Is she dangerous?”

*******

The bell had chimed just as Phryne was making her way down the stairs. 

“I’ll get the door, Mr. Butler!” She pulled it open and blinked. 

“Miss Palmer. What a surprise,” She said, though it wasn’t really. She’d been half expecting this. 

“I think you know why I’m here,” the other woman said, haughtily. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Please. Come in,” she said, leading the woman into her parlour and ringing the bell for Mr. Butler. The man responded immediately.

“Mr. Butler, could I trouble you for some tea?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“And, if you could contact my dinner guest as soon as possible to say we will be here this evening. There was some question as to the location of our gathering.”

“Yes, Miss. What time shall I say they are expected?”

“Just tell them I’ve had an unexpected visitor but that they are welcome anytime.”

Mr. Butler took stock of their new guest. The woman had an odd, almost vacant look in her eye and an disquieting aura about her that set his nerves on edge. He returned to the kitchen wondering over Miss Fisher’s rather cryptic instructions.

“What is she doing here?” Dot hissed.

“Do you know the young lady, Dorothy? She appeared distressed and Miss Fisher seems rather alarmed by her appearance here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She was rather vague but I believe she wants to me to call the inspector,” Mr. Butler said.

“I’m calling Hugh. Tell me exactly what Miss Fisher said.”

Mr. Butler left Dorothy to make the call and returned to the parlour with the tea. Miss Fisher was sitting calmly. Her guest paced restlessly about the room. He took his time pouring the tea in order to eavesdrop a little.

“Do sit down, Miss Palmer, and tell me what’s on your mind,” Miss Fisher said. 

“I’ve come here to find out if you truly care for Jack Robinson.” 

“I do care for Jack. A great deal,” Miss Fisher replied.

“If that’s true, I hope you will want to do the right thing by him.”

“Always,” Miss Fisher replied.

“Good. You must know that he loves me and not you. If you truly want him to be happy, you’ll set him free. ”

“What Jack does is up to him. I’m not holding him back.”

“That’s a lie! You’ll ruin him and I can’t let it stand!”

Mr. Butler hurried back to to the kitchen alarmed by the anger in the young woman’s voice.

“Were you able to reach Hugh? I think we might need the inspector here sooner rather than later.”

“Hugh said he was with Doctor MacMillan, he’s gone to fetch him now.”

They didn’t have to wait long and Mr. Butler was relieved to see the inspector had brought the doctor with him. 

“Where are they?” Jack whispered. Mr. Butler nodded toward the parlour.

“I’m afraid things seem to be escalating,” he said.

Jack put a finger to his lips then crept into the hall to eavesdrop. Doctor MacMillan followed behind him.

“Miss Palmer, I am not threatening Jack in any way. He’s free to come and go as he pleases.”

“Then why hasn’t he come to me?”

“That I cannot answer,” Phryne replied, calmly. “I don’t speak for him.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Lacy snarled. “You won’t let him. You seduced him when he was vulnerable and now you’re threatening to ruin him in the eyes of the public should he leave you.”

“I assure you that is not the case. I would never harm Jack,” Phryne said. 

“But you are harming him! Can’t you see that? You’re keeping him from the woman he truly loves. I can’t let this continue.”

Something in her voice made the hair on the back of Jack’s neck stand on end.

“Miss Palmer, please calm down,” Phryne said. “I’m sure we can discuss this reasonably.”

Jack pulled Doctor MacMillan back into the kitchen.

“She’s growing increasingly agitated.”

“Yes.”

“Should I go in there and tell her the truth? That there is not, nor ever has been, anything between us? That it’s all in her head?”

“This kind of delusion has proven very resistant. Even in the face of reality.”

“So what do we do?”

“I think you should go in there but just to try to keep her calm. Don’t try to convince her she’s imagined it all.”

“You’re not suggesting I tell her I’m in love with her?” Jack hissed. “Won’t that just strengthen the delusion?”

“I don’t know what you should to tell her,” Mac said, trying to keep her voice low. “I’ve never dealt with this before! Just get in there. I’ll ready a sedative in case it comes to that.”

Jack took a breath and stepped into the parlour. The sight before him sent his pulse racing. Phryne stood, her hands held in front of her in a supplicant manner, clearly trying to show she was no threat.

Lacy Palmer stood not four feet from Phryne. She held a large knife in her shaking hand.

“Miss Palmer, please put down the knife,” Jack said, as calmly as he could. 

“Jack! What are you doing here?” Lacy said.

“Trying to stop you from making a terrible mistake.”

“I have to do this, Jack. You must see that. I have to do this for you.”

“I don’t want you to do anything for me. Especially not this.”

“But, she’ll ruin you, Jack. She’ll ruin us.”

“There is no us, Miss Palmer. Can’t you see that? I can never be with you.” As he spoke he moved to position himself between Phryne and the knife.

“Jack,” Lacy said. “Dearest Jack. I know you feel you’ve betrayed me and that you don’t deserve me, but I forgive you. I love you. We just need to get rid of her and we can be together.”

“How can I make you understand? This isn’t real. This is all wrong,” Jack said, running his hands through his hair. Frustrated by her inability to see reason.

“I know you think I shouldn’t still love you or tell you that I do,” she said, smiling indulgently at him. “You don’t believe I could forgive you your transgressions, but I have. Truly I have. I won’t give up on our love. I know now that none of this was your fault. She’s the problem. She’s got you trapped, but I’m here to set you free.”

She still held the knife but had made no move to use it. He didn’t know what tack to take next. It seemed no matter how much he protested she would not give up her belief that they were in love. He was afraid if he continued trying to convince her otherwise she might grow more violent. He decided to try the opposite angle.

“Do you mean that? Can you really forgive me?” He said, taking a step closer to Lacy. The blade of her knife was now within an easy distance of his gut. He heard Phryne’s sharp intake of breath behind him.

“Of course I forgive you,” Lacy said, smiling up at him. “I love you.”

“Thank you. You’ve no idea what that means to me.” He reached out, closing his hands around the hand that held the knife. “Now, please, give me the knife.”

“What about her?”

“I’ll take care of her,” he said.

Her hand went slack and he slipped the weapon from her grip. He reached behind him to give the knife to Phryne.

“Jack! What are you doing?” Lacy asked.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me now, Miss Palmer,” he said, gently. 

“You’re not planning to arrest her, are you?” Phryne said.

“She threatened you with a knife, Phryne. What else can I do?” Jack asked. He had sympathy for this woman but she was a danger. “We’ll make sure she gets whatever care she needs but I can’t let her go and she can’t stay here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You did this!” Lacy screamed, breaking free of Jack’s grip and lunging at Phryne. “You’ve turned him against me!”

Jack pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pinning her arms to her sides. Lacy continued to struggle, kicking out at Phryne and screaming obscenities. 

“Doctor!” Jack called. “Doctor, we need you.”

Mac was in the room before he could finish the sentence. She rushed to the hysterical woman.

“Lacy! Lacy, look at me! My name is Elizabeth MacMillan, I’m a doctor. I’m here to help you.”

Lacy’s eyes were wild and she continued to struggle. Mac kept talking to her, trying to get her to focus and for a moment it seemed she might settle. She looked in Mac’s eyes and confusion crossed her face. Jack still held her tightly, not ready to trust her.

“That’s right,” Mac said, “look at me, Lacy. It’s going to be all right. No one is going to hurt you.”

Lacy stiffened in Jack’s arms, arched her head back and spit in Mac’s face. “You’re on her side!” She began to struggle anew, even more violently than before. “Jack! Jack please! Don’t let them do this to me.”

“Keep her as still as you can, Jack,” Mac said, bringing forward the syringe she’d been holding at her side. “Phryne, can you help? Gently, please.”

It took all of Phryne’s strength to keep Lacy’s arm extended. The drug acted quickly and within moments the only thing keeping her upright was Jack. He lifted her gently in his arms and laid her down on the chaise.

“She’ll be out for awhile,” Mac said, “we should get her to the hospital. I can have her admitted to the psychiatric ward.” 

“Will they know how to help her, Mac? It’s not likely anyone there has seen this before, is it?” Phryne said.

“Not this exactly but they’ve seen similar psychoses. It’s the best place for her right now. She’ll be safe and she’ll be where she can’t hurt anyone.”

“All right. The hospital it is. For now,” Phryne conceded. 

Mac used her authority to have Lacy admitted with Jack as her legal custodian. She had no one else to serve as a guardian and without one she would end up in the custody of the state and possible relegated to a state mental facility. Some of them were reputable but there were other that were notorious for sloppy care bordering on neglect. No one wanted to risk her ending up in one of those. The whole situation was heartbreaking enough already.

By the time they got everything settled it was well into the night. There was no question of going their separate ways. Once back at her home, Phryne took Jack’s hand and led him up the stairs to her room. He looked exhausted, so when she came from the bath, she was surprised to find him watching her from the bed. He was laying back with one arm behind his head, a very serious expression on his face.

“It’s terribly late,” she said. “I thought you’d be asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.”

“I was waiting for you,” he said. He threw the covers back and she climbed in beside him. He took her hand, tangling his fingers with hers. 

“Are you all right, Jack?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that had your life threatened today.”

“I don’t think she’d have really hurt me,” Phryne said, “she’d had the knife out for quite some time before you entered. She’d made no move toward me. She thought she was protecting you.”

“From you.”

“It’s an instinct I’m not entirely unfamiliar with.”

“What do you mean?”

“My instinct the other day. I couldn’t help thinking that you might want a life that I couldn’t give you and I so much want you to be happy. It seems so silly now, but at the time...” 

“You thought you should leave me for my own good?”

“Something like that.”

“Phryne, you are so much more than anything I’ve ever dreamed of having. Have I done such a poor job of telling you that? Don’t you know how much I love you?” 

“I do know, Jack. I think our love for each other sometimes makes us get in our own way.”

“How so?”

“Well, I was ready to walk away if I thought it would make you happier in the long term and apparently you were ready to leave me because you thought that would make me happier. Isn’t that right?”

“That sounds a bit simpler than what I was feeling but I guess it’s not too far off the mark,” he admitted.

“Like some perverse _Gift of the Magi_ ,” she said. “It was so much easier when it was just the two of us.”

“Yes. The more integrated our lives become the more challenges we seem to face,” he said, “ but I’m willing to face them.”

“So am I Jack. We need to fight for this, not surrender.”

“I’ll burn my white flag,” he said, with a small smile. “I wasn’t really going to give up on us, you know. I may have let my fears hold me back for little awhile, but before long you’d have found me at your door again, trying to convince you that I’m worth it.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I know that already. I love you, Jack.”

“I know you do.” He brought her hand to his lips.

“Do you? Sometimes I wonder.” 

“I do.”

“Then say it, Jack. Look me in the eye and say it.” There was no teasing in her tone. She squeezed his hand tightly, her bright eyes locked onto his.

“You love me,” he said. 

The force of the words hit him like a brick wall. She’d told him before and hearing it from her lips, especially that first time, was always wonderful, but something about saying it himself, out loud to her, left him feeling awed and more vulnerable than ever before.

“Yes, Jack. I love you and I know you love me. It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” she said. 

“It is.”

“What we have is not something small and weak and easily destroyed. It took a long time to make and it’s settled on some very solid foundation. As long as we remember that, it’s not going to crumble.”

“So, you’re saying we’re built to last?” He said, one eyebrow arching up and his mouth curving into his trademark smirk.

“I’m serious. I realize all this sentiment makes you uncomfortable. Luckily you won’t get it from me often but I want to make myself clear. I love you and I want to know all of you, Jack Robinson. Even the parts you think ordinary or dull. They’re not dull to me.”

“And I want to share everything with you, even the boring bits,” he said. “It meant the world to me that you wanted to meet my friends but you have to promise not to get any crazy ideas about what anything means, or listen to anyone else regarding what I might prefer. I had my chance at another kind of life. I walked away from it and ran straight to this one. I’m where I want to be.”

“As am I.”

“Good,” he said, rolling her onto her back and rising up over her. “Now, enough of the telling and a little more showing.”

He disappeared under the blanket, his lips marking a trail along her abdomen. A shiver ran down her spine and she brought her knees up alongside his head, her own falling back against the pillow. 

 

Five months later.

Jack stretched out on the blanket, dancing the toy in front of the baby’s face. It was a series of variously sized wooden balls in the shape of a man, dangling from a string. Phryne said the woman in the store told her it was very popular and that babies loved it. The squeals of delight he was hearing now as the toy man wiggled and the balls clacked together seemed to confirm that. He shook it again and chubby little hands reached out for it. The child pulled one of the balls to her mouth. 

“No, no,” Jack said, trying to dislodge it.

“She puts everything in her mouth these days. It’s all right as long as she can’t swallow it,” Molly said.

“She’s so much more alert than last time,” Jack said.

“They do grow up fast,” Molly said.

Just then Phryne ran past, chased by Molly’s son. He had an earnest expression on his face, a toy gun in his outstretched hand.

“Stop! Police!” He shouted.

“You’ll never catch me, you dirty copper!” Phryne shouted back at him.

“Bang, Bang! You’re dead!” the boy yelled and Phryne played out one of the most dramatic death scenes Jack had ever witnessed.

“Most of them, anyway,” Jack said. 

“It’s really wonderful what she did for Lacy. I hear she’s much better?”

“Yes,” Jack said, though ‘much better’ might be overstating things. 

The latest they’d heard was that there were days now when Lacy would question her delusion, but soon enough she would revert to thinking that Jack was coming for her any day. It was a small improvement but a step in the right direction. And, she was in a safe place. Being treated without judgement by kind people. Maybe that was enough.

“It’s such a sad thing, isn’t it?”

“It is. The doctors think it might have been caused by the trauma of losing her parents so soon after her brother’s death. Her own injuries from the accident may have played a role too.”

“Will she ever get well enough to come home?”

“Who?” Joe asked, returning from setting the middle child down for a nap in the house. He sat down on the blanket next to his wife and handed Jack a bottle of beer.

“Lacy Palmer,” Molly said. “Switzerland seems so far away.”

“I hope she’ll be well enough someday,” Jack said, “but Phryne has made it possible for her to stay with Dr. Samuels as long as she needs to.”

“She’s a remarkable woman, your Miss Fisher,” Molly said.

“She is remarkable. But she’s not mine, Molly.”

“I think she is, Jack,” Molly said.

“Don’t mess this one up, mate. You wouldn’t want to let that one get away,” Joe said.

“You’re right about that,” Jack said, clinking bottles with Joe. 

He looked out over the garden at Phryne. She’d come back to life and had switched roles with the boy. She had Jack’s fedora on her head, one hand her hip and her legs were spread wide in an aggressive stance. She spun the little toy gun around her index finger and brought it to a stop, pointing it at the enchanted child. She tipped the hat back with her index finger.

“Don’t try to run,” she said, mimicking a hardened lawman. “Phryne Fisher always gets her man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story I didn’t want to create a female character that was simply jealous and mean and trying to ‘steal’ a man away from another woman. Lacy is a woman suffering from an illness as real as the flu.
> 
> I feel that mental illness is too often misunderstood and demonized and the people suffering from it too easily dismissed as ‘crazy.’ I wanted Lacy to be a character that people cared for and treated as someone with an illness.
> 
> I hope I’ve treated the issue with some sensitivity while trying to entertain.
> 
> About the condition:
> 
> Erotomania, also called de Clérambault syndrome, after the doctor that first described it, (and also, Psychoses Passionelle), is a type of delusional disorder where the affected person believes another person is in love with them.
> 
> From Wikipedia: “The core symptom of the disorder is that the sufferer holds an unshakable belief that another person is secretly in love with them. The sufferer may also experience other types of delusions concurrently with erotomania, such as ‘delusions of reference’ wherein the perceived admirer secretly communicates his or her love by subtle methods such as body posture, arrangement of household objects, and other seemingly innocuous acts (or, if the person is a public figure, through clues in the media).”
> 
> There have been many documented cases and references to the condition can be found as far back as the works of Hippocrates and as recently as current day cases of celebrity stalkings. From what I’ve read, people suffering from these delusions are not generally considered dangerous. 
> 
> A case I read about from the ’70’s was heartbreaking and while it created an interesting construct for my story, it can be a devastating condition for those that suffer from it and the people that love them.


End file.
